


is this okay?

by seasandsalt



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Confessions, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Late at Night, M/M, Music, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasandsalt/pseuds/seasandsalt
Summary: But it wasn’t his fault Dream was so…like that. With his stupid blond hair and his stupid freckles and his stupid laugh and his stupidly sweet voice. With his broad shoulders and his big hands and his kind smile. With his incessant flirty jokes and comments and his constant physical affection. How was Sapnap supposed tonotfall in love with him? How was he supposed tonotlet Dream consume his thoughts?Dream didn’t feel the same, heknewthat, so he refused to let George get his hopes up.“You know it’s okay, right?” George’s voice was quiet and right in his ear. “To think about him like that.”“No, it’s not.”“Why not?”Sapnap faltered. “I… don’t know. It’s just weird, George, I mean, he’s my best friend, I shouldn’t want to kiss him every time I see him.”And there it was. His brutal truth, his inescapable desire and too-strong want.or;Sapnap goes to find refuge from his thoughts in the kitchen, only to find Dream already there with earbuds resting in his ears, staring out the window. He remembers what George had told him mere moments ago.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 258





	is this okay?

Soft, white light filtered in through the curtains half-covering the window. It was sometime during the ungodly hours of the morning when the only people awake were those stumbling home from the bar or those who were halfway through their graveyard shift at the twenty-four-hour grocery store. The night was silent, spare for the buzzing and clicking of the cicadas.

His room was still fairly empty, and more than a few boxes were stacked against the far wall. Sapnap had moved in with Dream, in Florida, just over a week ago, and he hadn’t gotten around to unpacking all his things yet. His PC sat on the floor under his desk, asleep, and his two monitors were dark. The office chair that was tucked under the desk cast weird shadows on the wall from the light shining through the window. He really needed to close his curtains fully.

Why he was awake, he didn’t know, but he spent half an hour trying to fall back into sleep’s embrace. He tossed and turned on the mattress, pulled the blankets up to his chin because he was cold, and then promptly kicked them down to his ankles because he was too hot. His pillow wasn’t soft enough, so he grumbled and propped himself up on an elbow and fluffed it, only for it to be too plushy when he laid back down. When he flipped it over, the new side was warm and he huffed out a frustrated breath when he felt it against his cheek.

Sapnap gave up on trying to fall back asleep, then, realizing it was a fruitless task. He was doomed to lay on his back and stare at the slow-turning ceiling fan attached to his light. The blades cut through the air silently and moved at a methodical pace. They turned and turned and turned and breathed cool air down onto him. The slight wind ruffled his hair against his forehead every so often and he kept trying to push it out of his face, only for it to fall back down into his eyes. 

His hands groped around the bed for his phone, finding it buried in the top sheet tangled around his left calf. Its screen was black and he tapped repeatedly on its face, yet it didn’t light up. The lock button was pressed and he sighed when the image of a red, empty battery flashed on the screen. Great. He’d forgotten to charge it during the day, and he’d left the white cord at his desk, all the way on the other side of the room.

So, he was stuck on his bed, unable to fall back asleep, holding his dead phone in his hand like he was still convinced it would turn on.

The cicadas outside his window clicked and buzzed and the ceiling fan spun in circles and the moonlight shone through his window and he huffed out a breath and rolled onto his side. His eyes landed on his door, closed shut, and he traced the shape of the handle with his gaze. He shifted his body and eyed the pile of boxes stacked against the wall. Sapnap rolled his eyes before pushing himself into a sitting position. If he wasn’t able to fall back asleep, he might as well get some work done. 

The carpet under his feet was soft and plush as he padded over to his desk. He fumbled with the charger, plugging it into a USB port on the side of his PC and setting it on the seat of his chair to charge. He made his way over to the side of the room and considered the stack of boxes. Sapnap’s hands wrapped around a small box at the top of one of the stacks and he lifted it up and carried it over to his bed, dropping it unceremoniously onto the mattress.

His fingers pried at the tape securing the flaps and, eventually, it ripped off the cardboard with a loud noise. He hoped Dream couldn’t hear it from his room downstairs; the last thing he wanted to do was wake him up.

Inside the box was miscellaneous junk, random things from his room back in Texas that he didn’t know if he would need. They’d only planned on him staying for a month, so he wasn’t sure what he should pack, and he’d ended up throwing random items into boxes the day before he was set to leave. He realized, though, that he’d have to get his mom to pack up the rest of his things and mail them to him, considering that, even though they’d only been in the same house for a week, Dream had offered to let Sapnap move in permanently. He had to try hard to not act as excited as he felt at that prospect.

His Texas flag was folded at the top of the box and he pulled it out and smoothed the fabric down over his bed - he’d hang it up in the morning. Underneath the flag were a few half-folded shirts and a hoodie that Dream had sent him when he released a new merch design, and underneath those were some volumes of the manga series he’d been reading. Those items were set down on the bed beside the flag, and he was halfway back to the stack, hands outstretched to grab another box, when he heard the telltale _buzz_ of his phone against the leather of his chair.

Bright light pooled from the chair - he’d forgotten to turn the screen brightness down on his phone before it died, apparently - and it bathed the room in an artificial glow. Sapnap squinted his eyes as he got closer to the chair and watched as various notifications poured in, now that his phone held a semblance of charge. Pop-ups from Twitter and Discord littered the lock screen, along with various missed calls and text messages from his friends.

Karl had sent him about thirty text messages, starting out as simple conversation and then evolving into countless inside jokes and teases about him sleeping through _another_ one of his streams that he said he’d be on. He laughed and shot back a quick _guess i’ll have to set louder alarms! sorry!_ before dismissing those notifications.

Twitter DMs from their group chat were next on his list to sort through, and he scoffed as he realized all the messages were links to random tweets that the boys had found - presumably from fans - and thought were funny enough to share. Sapnap rolled his eyes and decided to sort through those later, swiping those pop-ups off his screen.

Quackity had called and FaceTimed him a few times, also asking where he was when he was supposed to be on stream with him and Karl - he’d also sent him a few texts, but Sapnap swiped those away without looking at them.

His mom had phoned him, around six o’clock the night before, and it was then that Sapnap realized how early he’d gone to sleep. He cursed himself for his fucked up sleep schedule that caused him to be awake at - he checked the time on his phone - _three in the morning_. He really had to fix that, somehow.

He was about to swipe off the rest of the notifications without reading them, deciding to sort through them later, when he spotted a Discord message from George, sent a few minutes ago.

_**George** _   
_how’s it going with dream?_

His eyebrows furrowed. That was weird - he’d been on call with George earlier that day, _with Dream_. George knew how they were, so why was he asking that?

He unlocked his phone and opened Discord, fingers flying over the keyboard as he typed _are you stupid or dumb or both? we were literally in a call earlier._

George was quick to respond, something so unlike him that it took Sapnap aback.

_**George** _   
_that’s not what i meant._

He hummed to himself, some random tune from a song he didn’t remember the name of, and replied with _you’re losing it george._

Sapnap could practically _hear_ the exasperation in George’s voice, and he mocked his accent as he read the words.

_**George** _   
_you’re actually dumb sapnap._   
_when are you going to tell him?_

He sat down in the desk chair and turned on his PC. The fans inside the machine whirred to life and his monitors flashed from black to the purples and blues of his background. Clicks of his mouse echoed in the otherwise silent room and he pulled his headphones over his ears; they flattened his already-mussed hair to his forehead and he angrily pushed his bangs away from his eyes. Sapnap typed onto his keyboard and the Discord call sound played too loudly in his ears.

George picked up the call when Sapnap was fumbling with the volume settings and turning his headset down. “Hi, Sapnap,” he said cooly.

“What did you mean by that?”

Sapnap could practically hear George’s eyes rolling as he responded, “you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t! What are you impl-”

“I’m _implying_ ,” George cut him off, “that you’re too oblivious to realize your own feelings.”

“Huh?” He wrung his hands together and chewed at his lip, waiting for George to explain further.

“Oh, my _god_ , Sapnap, you’re so _stupid_. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“Fuck’s sake.” George sounded annoyed and Sapnap suddenly worried that he was bugging him.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail.

“I- what?”

“Sorry,” he repeated, “for bugging you.”

George softened immediately. The edge in his voice was gone and he sighed into his microphone. “You’re not bugging me, Sapnap.”

“Are you sure-”

“I promise.”

Sapnap nodded, even though George couldn’t see him, and brought his hand back down to rest lightly on his keyboard. He still had no idea what George was talking about, and he was about to ask him again, when George’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you still unpacking?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve still got a few boxes to go. I was actually working on that when I called you.” Sapnap was thankful for the brief topic change, grateful that George knew he was confused and that he had opted to fill the silence with small talk. 

“That’s good, Sapnap, I-'' a _thud_ sounded in his headphones as George bumped something against his microphone. “Oops, sorry. I’m glad you’re settling in. How’s Florida?”

His head turned to the left and he gazed out his window through the gap in his curtains. He could see the night sky, dark and cloudy, and wished he could see the twinkles of stars. The curtains moved, gently, along with the breeze created by the ceiling fan and Sapnap found himself getting lost in the movements, tracking the motions with his eyes.

“Sapnap?”

Oh, right. George.

“Yeah?”

George scoffed and repeated his question.

“It’s… nice. Not too different from Texas, so I don’t feel homesick. Weather’s been nice, too. Hot, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Sapnap sat and stared out his window and George left him with his thoughts but stayed in the call to keep him company. It was comforting, knowing that George wasn’t going to push him and was content with just sitting in a call together. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, swivelling back and forth.

He was about to say goodbye to George, end the call, and attempt to go back to sleep, when George’s voice broke the silence. “He feels the same, you know.”

“What?”

“Dream,” George said. 

Sapnap waited for him to continue, but George didn’t speak again. He furrowed his eyebrows and began biting at his thumb once more. Surely, George was just joking… right? Dream didn’t actually… _Sapnap_ didn’t actually… surely not?

It was something that Sapnap never really considered. Well, he’d _definitely_ considered it on more than one occasion, but he always tried to push it down, step on it and beat it into the dust. The last thing Sapnap wanted to do was accidentally slip up when he was around Dream, confess everything, make Dream uncomfortable, and then, inevitably, be kicked out and have to move back to Texas. So he did everything he could to suppress his feelings for his best friend.

But it wasn’t his fault Dream was so… _like that_. With his stupid blond hair and his stupid freckles and his stupid laugh and his stupidly sweet voice. With his broad shoulders and his big hands and his kind smile. With his incessant flirty jokes and comments and his constant physical affection. How was Sapnap supposed to _not_ fall in love with him? How was he supposed to _not_ let Dream consume his thoughts?

Dream didn’t feel the same, he _knew_ that, so he refused to let George get his hopes up.

“You know it’s okay, right?” George’s voice was quiet and right in his ear. “To think about him like that.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why not?”

Sapnap faltered. “I… don’t know. It’s just weird, George, I mean, he’s my best friend, I shouldn’t want to kiss him every time I see him.”

And there it was. His brutal truth, his inescapable desire and too-strong want.

He hated admitting it to himself, let alone George, and he hated that there was nothing he could do about it. He was hopelessly in love with Dream, had been since he was about fifteen or sixteen years old, and now they were living together and Sapnap just confessed to their shared best friend that he wanted to shove his tongue down Dream’s throat. Great.

“He feels the same,” George repeated, and Sapnap wanted to scream. He wanted to rip his hair out and scream and cry and curl up into a ball in the middle of his bed and fall asleep forever.

“Stop,” he whispered, sitting upright and bringing a leg up. He rested his chin on his knee and hugged it close to his chest.

“I’m serious, Sapnap.”

“Stop lying, George.” He was desperate. “Please.”

“Sapnap, what do you want me to say? You can’t live like this forever, it’s eating you up.”

“I want you to not pity me, George.”

“I’m not lying!”

Sapnap huffed into the microphone and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please.”

George groaned in frustration and Sapnap heard him typing onto his keyboard. “Whatever, Sapnap. If you’re not going to listen to me, then I’m going to stop trying. Sleep well.”

The call ended and Sapnap was alone again.

He scrubbed at his face with his hand and took a few deep breaths. George wasn’t normally like that, so, surely there was some truth to his words, right? He wanted him to be right, he wanted Dream to reciprocate his feelings, so _badly_ , but part of him just couldn’t believe it. 

His throat felt dry and he had begun to get a headache. Sapnap took his headset off, set it down beside his keyboard, and pushed his chair away from his desk. He walked over to the minifridge on the other side of his room and knelt down. The handle was, somehow, cold against his skin despite the Florida heat and he tugged the small door open.

Inside the fridge were a few cans of a new, random energy drink he decided to try and a small, prepackaged cup of cut celery he had grabbed from the grocery store. His hand closed around one of the brightly coloured cans and he was inches away from pulling it out of the fridge, but the small voice in the back of his head told him that it wouldn’t be a smart move to drink a can of caffeine and sugar at half-past three in the morning. So he set it back down and closed the door a little too harshly.

Sapnap’s feet carried him back and forth across his floor as he paced around his room. He was thirsty, yes, but he didn’t want to risk running into Dream downstairs; he didn’t think he could face him right then. 

So he paced, and paced, and paced, and he heard his phone buzz on his desk but he ignored it.

He didn’t really want to kiss Dream, he knew that, he was _sure_ of that. He just… said that to George, for whatever reason; he was always saying whatever came to mind, and for some reason, he said that. Right? Yeah, that’s what happened. 

Sapnap was a lot of things, but in love with Dream was _definitely_ not one of them.

A few more paces and a deep breath later, and Sapnap’s hand was curled around his door handle and he was pulling it open. Dream was sleeping, and even if he wasn’t, there was such a slim chance that he was in the kitchen. And if he was, Sapnap wouldn’t care. Why would he? They’re best friends - _nothing more_ \- and they’re bound to see each other sometime, considering they live in the same house and all.

His door opened with a _click_ and he padded out into the hallway. The hardwood floor did nothing to muffle the light sounds of his footsteps as he made his way down the hallway to the top of the stairs. As he made his way down the dark staircase, he definitely did _not_ think about what George said, and he definitely was _not_ remembering how good Dream had looked the day before with the sunlight streaming in through his window and turning his hair gold. Not at all.

Sapnap reached the bottom floor and continued through the house, passing by the - thankfully - closed door to Dream’s bedroom. Patches was sitting in front of it dutifully, tongue lapping over her one raised paw. He smiled and bent down, gave her a few pats on the head, and reached the end of the hallway.

The kitchen was dark, the only light in it coming from the green digital clocks on the oven and microwave and the moonlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the adjoined dining room. An island stood in the middle of the floor and Sapnap ran his hand over the marble countertop as he walked around it to get to the fridge.

His footsteps were quiet and he breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of blond-haired, tall men in the kitchen. Sapnap tugged open the fridge door and was hit with a blast of chilled air. He grabbed a couple of plastic water bottles from the middle shelf and went to close the door.

“Jesus - fuck!” he shouted, catching sight of Dream sitting, cross-legged, on the tiled floor in front of the windows. He had earbuds in his ears, the wire connected to the phone resting on the floor beside him, and he turned his head when he heard Sapnap’s exclamation.

“Pandas!” he said, and Sapnap could see the hint of a smile on his face as it was illuminated by the pale moonlight. It turned his skin white and his nose cast shadows on his cheek. 

Sapnap set his water bottles down on the counter and was about to close the fridge door when Dream stood up and walked over to him. His earbuds were still in his ears and he set his phone, face down, on the counter beside the chilled plastic bottles. 

“ _What_ are you doing?” Sapnap asked, looking up at the man in front of him. He wasn’t looking at his freckles, visible in the artificial light of the fridge, and he wasn’t looking at his exposed collarbone. And he _definitely_ wasn’t looking at the way Dream’s throat bobbed when he swallowed.

“Here,” his voice was like a whisper, carried through the otherwise silent night, “listen.” Dream popped one of the earbuds out of his ear and extended his arm.

Sapnap was about to take the white earbud from Dream’s fingers when he felt his hair brushed behind his ear and realized that Dream had placed the earbud in his ear for him. His fingers lingered, for a brief moment, and Sapnap felt his skin tingle where Dream had touched him. But he definitely wasn’t paying attention to it.

The music that flowed from Dream’s phone, up the wire, and into his ear was soft, melodic, smooth. Elegant piano notes harmonized perfectly with the lyrics and created a magical sort of sound. He didn’t recognize the song and couldn’t make out the words, but all that mattered to him was that Dream was standing close to him, almost chest to chest, and he was singing the song under his breath. His voice was somehow softer and smoother, more magical than the song itself, and Sapnap found himself getting lost in it.

Dream was looking down at him, the corners of his lips curved upwards into a warm smile. He had a kind expression and his eyes were, somehow, brighter than the yellowish light coming from the open fridge. Sapnap wanted to get lost in them, drown in them and never resurface. Half his face was cast in shadow and the other half was illuminated - Sapnap counted his freckles and gaped up at him.

He saw Dream slide his phone off the counter and slip it into his back pocket, forcing them to stand impossibly closer so the earbuds stayed in both their ears. They were sharing breaths and sharing space and Sapnap felt his heart flutter. But he definitely didn’t feel anything else. They were just friends. Dream was just his friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Dream was his friend who had his hands on his waist and was dragging him into the more open area of the kitchen. Dream was his friend who was singing the words to the unknown song in his ear. Dream was his friend who was guiding him across the floor in a waltz.

Dream was just his friend, and Sapnap _definitely_ wasn’t freaking out.

He could feel his cheeks heat up from the close contact and he hoped that Dream couldn’t see how flushed his face was. Sapnap stumbled and tripped over his feet and was mesmerized by the laugh that spilled from Dream’s lips; it was breathy and he somehow managed to keep singing while laughing and Sapnap knew he was fucked.

His arms were hanging loosely by his side and Dream let go of his waist with one hand and wrapped his fingers around Sapnap’s wrist. Dream pulled Sapnap’s arm up and rested it on his shoulder before bringing his hand back down to his waist. The opposite hand did the same to Sapnap’s other arm and then they were tangled together in an embrace.

Fingers curled around Sapnap’s hip and Dream’s other hand curved around his body to splay across the small of his back. The touch sent shivers up his spine and sparks down his arms and legs, all the way to the tips of his toes and the pads of his fingers. Sapnap’s forearms were resting on Dream’s shoulders and he grabbed his wrist with his hand, locking his arms around Dream.

The lyrics to the song faded out and were replaced by more piano, this time with added strings. It was a haunting yet jovial melody, deep and dark and soft and beautiful. Dream smiled down at him and sped up their dance, keeping time with the music. They stepped and spun around the kitchen in the light of the refrigerator.

Dream kept his one hand on Sapnap’s back and traced the other up the length of Sapnap’s arm. He tapped on his skin and Sapnap took the hint; he let go of his own wrist and brought his hand down to meet Dream’s. Their fingers laced and then Dream was holding his hand and Sapnap hoped his palm wasn’t sweaty.

This was normal, right? They were just friends. Sapnap’s heart was still racing from when Dream had scared him earlier, definitely not because of the way Dream was looking down at him like he hung his moon and stars. _Definitely_ not because they were standing so close he could feel Dream’s body heat on his skin. _Definitely_ not because Dream squeezed his hand gently and took a slight step back.

Sapnap was flustered and Dream held their connected arms straight out between them. They stood like that for a beat, the earbud almost falling out of Sapnap’s ear, before Dream tugged him close and spun him under his arm. He twirled under Dream’s body and both earbuds were ripped from their ears with the movement and clattered to the floor.

Dream kept singing, though, his voice echoing through the spacious kitchen and bouncing around in Sapnap’s mind. The earbuds dragged on the floor behind them, still connected to the phone in Dream’s back pocket, and Sapnap tried to suppress his giggles.

All of a sudden, there was a tug on his arm and he was face to face with Dream again. The hand was on his back once more and Sapnap instinctually brought his free arm up to rest on Dream’s shoulder. Dream gave his hand another squeeze and unlinked their fingers.

A warm hand was cupping his cheek and he felt his entire body heat up. His cheeks were flushed, he could tell, and his heart was pounding against his ribcage. Their feet were close together and Sapnap’s knee was between Dream’s legs. He hoped Dream couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat or see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Dream smiled again, that stupid smile that made Sapnap swoon, and sung the rest of the lyrics. Their eyes never strayed from each other and Sapnap was suddenly glad that his back was to the fridge.

The light, although artificial and a gross, sallow colour, made Dream look, somehow, all the more beautiful. His eyes were green and bright and lively, and his eyebrows were raised, ever so slightly, in an amused expression. He was smiling and his lips looked soft in the yellow glow. His hair hung loosely around his forehead and curled against the skin. It looked fluffy, and Sapnap wanted to touch it.

So he did.

He brought his other arm back up and rested it on Dream’s shoulder, yet, this time, he bent his wrist and tickled the nape of Dream’s neck.

The man huffed out a quiet breath of laughter and closed his eyes briefly. Sapnap stretched his fingers and, gingerly, twirled them around the hairs at the back of Dream’s head.

The blond strands were just as soft, if not softer, than they looked, and Sapnap decided then and there that he would take every opportunity he could get to pet his hand through Dream’s hair, feelings and awkwardness be damned.

Dream seemed to like it, too, resuming his mindless humming and rubbing his thumb back and forth across Sapnap’s cheekbone.

They stood there like that, inches apart and sharing breaths, for what felt like hours to Sapnap. It was silent around them and the moon continued to shine in through the windows to his left. Dream broke the silence first.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap breathed out immediately.

Dream smiled at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated.

There was a slight pressure applied to his back as Dream pulled him impossibly closer. The two were now chest to chest, their t-shirts touching. His breath tickled his forehead. “How ‘bout this?”

Sapnap nodded and thought back to what George said. _He feels the same_ , his friend had told him. Surely… surely George wasn’t telling the truth, right? Surely, Sapnap was just caught up in another one of his fantasies that felt too real. Or, worse, Dream was just messing with him, was going to pull back any second and laugh in his face.

“You sure?”

Dream’s voice was honey and Sapnap was a bee, buzzing helplessly through the air and around his words, desperate to get trapped in their sticky sweetness. His voice was velvet, soft against his skin and plush against his body. His voice was sugar and spice and, well, everything nice, and Sapnap really thought that, yeah, that’s what Dream was made of.

Sapnap nodded again and couldn’t look away from Dream. He couldn’t ignore the thumb rubbing circles on his cheek and he couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading outwards from Dream’s fingertips resting against his back. He couldn’t ignore the way his breath hitched at their closeness and he couldn’t ignore the way Dream brought his face millimetres closer to his.

Maybe, just maybe, George was right.

Dream tilted his chin up and then their faces were close, too close, and Sapnap could feel Dream’s breath against his face and he could feel his lips moving against his in a ghostly touch when he asked, “is _this_ okay?”

He couldn’t find his words, couldn’t find his voice. He wanted to scream his “yes” from the top of his lungs, wanted to shout it from the rooftops and wanted to whisper it against Dream’s lips. But all he could do was nod again and replay what George had said, over and over in his mind, and try to convince himself that he was dreaming.

_He feels the same._

_He feels the same._

_He feels the same._

Sapnap was about to detangle his fingers from Dream’s hair and pinch himself when, suddenly, he realized that it wasn’t a dream. George hadn’t been lying. Dream did feel the same.

His lips were soft against Sapnap’s, warm, and he tasted like minty toothpaste. Sapnap closed his eyes and positively _melted_ into Dream’s touch, into Dream’s lips, and he felt weightless.

It was over far too soon.

Dream pulled back, ever so slightly, and whispered, “was that okay?”

“Stop asking that,” Sapnap huffed. He used his hand in Dream’s hair to his advantage and pulled him closer, smashing their lips together in a more sturdy kiss. 

Dream turned their bodies and walked Sapnap backwards until he felt the island countertop press against his back. They broke apart, for a moment, and Sapnap hopped up onto the counter. He spread his knees and Dream stepped in between them, his hips flush against the countertop and both his hands on Sapnap’s hips. Sapnap tangled his fingers back into Dream’s hair and used his free hand to grip his bicep like it was his lifeline.

The kiss was tentative and gentle, at first, but quickly morphed into something akin to confidence and, in Sapnap’s case, neediness.

He drank Dream in like he was the air he needed to breathe, like he’d die the second they parted. He felt like he would. Sapnap licked against Dream’s bottom lip and huffed in frustration when his friend - _just friends_ \- pulled away with a laugh.

“What?” he whined, trying to keep his voice sounding cool, calm, and collected. He knew he failed, though, when Dream laughed again.

“You left the fridge open.”

Smartass.

“Yeah, ‘cause you tugged me away from it, genius.” He brought his hand up and flicked Dream’s forehead.

He giggled, and, before Dream could object, Sapnap pulled him in for a kiss and swallowed those laughs, drank them in and hummed contentedly. Dream pulled away.

“It’s letting out all its cold air, Sapnap.”

“Then do something about it!”

Dream threw his head back and wheezed out a laugh, letting go of Sapnap’s waist and patting his thigh once, twice, three times. He stepped away from the island and walked over to the fridge. 

The door closed with a _slam_ and they were bathed in darkness. Moonlight pooled onto the floor from the windows in front of him and lit up Sapnap’s body. Green light emanated from the digital clocks on both the oven and the microwave behind him. Dream was standing between his legs again, tapping a beat onto the tops of his thighs with his fingertips.

“So,” he started, slightly breathless.

He looked up at him and Sapnap felt his heart stop. The moonlight flowed from behind him and lit up the back of his head. His hair, usually blond, was white and gold, godly and ethereal, and Sapnap thought that it looked like he had a halo. His lips were parted, slightly, as he gaped at Dream - _his friend_ \- in awe.

Dream pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and repeated, “so.”

“So,” Sapnap breathed out, mesmerized by the sight of Dream in front of him.

Maybe, just maybe, George was right. Maybe, Dream did feel the same. Maybe, it was okay that Sapnap felt like this.

Dream smiled at him. “Where were we?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! this didn't turn out exactly how i wanted it to, but i figured i should still post it for you all. kudos and comments are so, so appreciated!
> 
> i've got lots more ideas, so keep your eyes out for more fics in the (hopefully) near future!
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seasandsalt)!
> 
> love you guys,
> 
> sea. <3
> 
> oh! this is the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RgaxLs_k-I) dream was listening to, by the way. one of my favourite songs ever, and i highly recommend listening to it!


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